It was dusty under the bed, and cramped. I did my best to get comfortable and waited, straining to listen to the goings-ons in the house. Alafaire and Matilda’s murmured conversation filtered through to me, as well as the sounds of chopping and stirring. The aroma of stew filled me with hunger. I was really regretting passing the chicken off to a street urchin.
In the uncomfortable darkness, I dozed off once or twice, woken more by my empty belly than vigilance. Daylight had ended, so the only light I had was from the soft glow from under the bedroom door. A shadow fell across the light, and I held my breath. “You rest by the fire, now. I’m going to change.”
Alafaire entered the room, the scent of flowers and stew billowing in her wake. I stared at her feet, not breathing, as she closed
